


Now or Never

by EmmaTheRevelator (BadWolf1988)



Category: Original Work
Genre: ABUSE TRIGGER WARNING!, Bikers, Drama, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Older Man/Younger Woman, Romance, South Carolina, biker romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-19 10:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13702284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolf1988/pseuds/EmmaTheRevelator
Summary: A young actress in an abusive situation. An older biker with a troubled past and a heart of gold. Can Davis teach Imogen that if she's going to escape...it's now or never?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Meghan (Christlove88) for beta reading this story.

**MYRTLE BEACH, SOUTH CAROLINA**

        I hate my life. I 100% detest my existence. I slowly unwrapped the ace bandage that the wardrobe lady had bound my breasts with as I continued to curse my life.

        Why were my breasts bound you ask? Yeah, I thought you might ask. You see, my name is Imogen Kyle. I'm seventeen-years-old and I have been an actress pretty much since birth thanks to my greedy father and my fame hungry late mother. While I had once been an adorable little girl who had passed for Shirley Temple in a made-for-TV biopic about her, I now more closely (in shape, anyway) resembled a 1960's Playboy Bunny. I had definitely inherited my mom's curves, that was for damn sure.

        My full figure caused a bit of a problem because the role I was famous for was that of Marleigh Chandler from the Dare City series of superhero films. Marleigh was built like a normal teenage girl and I was not and hadn't been since roughly the age of twelve. I had endured more ace bandage wraps (to make my bust look smaller) than I cared to remember.

        As I threw the ace bandage wrap onto the small vanity table in my trailer, I brought my hands up and gently massaged my chest. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I cringed. I could see where the bruises were already starting to appear around and under my breasts, mixing with the faded yellow bruises that ran along my rib cage. I looked like a damn freak. If the press and my fans only fucking knew what I went through for my role.

        A knock on the trailer door almost made me jump out of my skin. Grabbing my nearby Little Big Town t-shirt, I quickly threw it on. “What?” I called.

        The door opened and the friendly face of my friend and castmate, Corey, appeared. “Hey, mama, wanna go to a party with me tonight?” He stepped all the way into the trailer and closed the door behind him.

        I rolled my eyes. “You know Lucifer would never allow it.” Lucifer is what I called my father... when he wasn't around to hear it of course.

        “So? Don't tell him. He'll probably be passed out drunk by the time you get back to the hotel anyway.” Corey shrugged his shoulders.

        As much as I hated to admit it, he had a valid point. “Where is this party at anyway?”

        “This biker bar on the beach.”

        Say what now?

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

        Okay. This was the last time that I let Corey drag me to a party being thrown at a biker bar being thrown by a dude he met at (not even joking) _Hooters_.

        The people in attendance were not a part of my usual social scene. Everyone seemed pretty friendly but everyone – man, woman, and a few people she really wasn't sure of their gender – had tattoos and piercings and were all really into motorcycles. Me and Corey also had to be the youngest guests in attendance. Everyone had to be in their late twenties to early thirties. I was a millennial surrounded by Generation X. Seeing as Corey ditched me an hour earlier to chase after a large chested biker babe, I was on my own with no one to talk to.

        “You don't look like you're havin' too a good a time, sugar,” a warm and not at all unpleasant southern laced voice broke me out of my thoughts.

        I was seated on the tailgate of an older model pickup truck that was parked on the beach right outside the bar. While I had been spacing out, I had been joined by a rather bulky looking dude with ginger hair and deep blue eyes. He had to be in his late twenties, at least.

        “Yeah, well, I'm a lot younger than, like, everyone here,” I answered him as I took a sip out of my red solo cup. I had no idea what I was drinking but the fruity mix was making me totally chill.

        “Than why are you here?” the good-looking man countered.

        “Because if my best friend jumped off a cliff, I'd probably jump too?” I tried being witty but I just ended up sounding like Bella from Twilight to my great embarrassment.

        The fruity drink must have improved my normally dry sense of humor because for as weak of a joke as I thought it was, the dude actually laughed. Score one for fruity alcohol.

        “So, what's your name, sugar?” he asked as he took a sip out of his own red solo cup. I really liked it when he called me 'sugar'.

        I suddenly realized that this friendly, attractive man had no clue who I was. He didn't know that I was famous. I was going into whatever the hell this was with a completely clean slate. “Imogen, but, most people seem to realize that was a cruel burden for my parents to place on my shoulders and simply call me Ginny.” Whoa. This fruity cup of awesomesauce was turning me into a witty smartass that would do TV's Dr. Gregory House proud. What? Everyone has their one favorite TV show and mine was about a drug-addicted doctor with a big mouth.

        He laughed again before nodding his head at me. “It's nice to meet you, Ginny. My name's Davis. My family owns this joint.” He jerked his head towards the bar.

        I should have known from the tats running up and down his arms that he was a biker and part of this crowd. Why the hell else would he be there? “Davis... too long,” I shook my head in mock seriousness. “I'm gonna have to call you D.”

        “Sugar... you can call me whatever you want.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

        Hold the phone – was Davis flirting with me?

        “Oh, really,” I flirted right back because the awesomesauce seemed to have complete control over my mouth. “Why would you let me do that?”

        I must have taken him by surprise because he paused for a second and chuckled to himself before he replied. “Because the lady is always right, of course.”

        Oh, was he a smooth operator. I was going to see how far I could milk this. This was one of those situations where I was going to have to be bad if I was going to have a good time. Either the alcohol was working or I had become possessed by the spirit of Kylo Ren. Seeing as Kylo Red was fictional and I hadn't started building any weapons of mass destruction I'm pretty sure it was safe to say that I was shit faced drunk.

        “So, I could convince you to do anything right now? Because I'm a lady,” I baited him.

        “Within reason,” he nodded and slightly amended.

        “Pretend to be my guardian so I can get a tattoo?” I have no fucking clue where that idea came from...probably from the twisted mind of the awesome. Whatever. I was going to go with it.

        “How old are you?” Davis seemed taken aback. In fact, he reeled away from me like I had struck him in the face.

        “Seventeen as of January,” I replied casually as I took another sip from my cup.

        “Damn,” Davis ran a hand over his mouth. “I thought you were at least twenty.”

        He was about to go running for the hills. That was just my luck...and he was so pretty to look at too.

        “Hey. Sixteen's the age of consent in most states...South Carolina included,” I blurted out. I just let the statement hang in the air. How the hell had I even known that? That was not common knowledge that everyone just had. Where in the world would I even have learned it? Probably google. 

        I watched Davis to try and gauge his reaction. He actually appeared to be thinking it over. “I'm going to hell,” he muttered to himself before turning to me with an oh-so-sexy smirk on his face. “Where do you wanna go for this tattoo of yours?”

        Holy shit. He had actually taken my bait and was willing to contribute to the delinquency of a minor. Well, in for a penny, in for a friggin' pound. “I'm only in town for work,” I admitted as he got to his feet. “You pick the place.” Was I fucking insane? I really didn't know Davis at all. “You obviously know where to go.” I nodded at the dark green vines that wound up both of his arms and disappeared into his t-shirt.

        “What kind of business would require a seventeen-year-old girl to travel?” Davis offered me a hand to help me down off the tailgate.

        “Show business,” I replied shortly. 

        “Do you want to find your friend and let her know that you're leaving with me?

        We slowly started making our way to the bar's beachfront parking lot.

        “Nope,” I shook my head even though Davis wasn't even looking at me. “He ditched me first. Let him worry.”

        “Your best friend's a guy?” I could see the surprise on Davis' face thanks to the parking lot lights as we arrived at the passenger side of a red Silverado pickup truck.

        “Yep,” I smirked, making my P pop. “He's also black. Too bad he's not gay or else we'd have our sitcom.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: 'Lilo and Stitch' is the intellectual property of Disney. I make no claims of ownership. I am merely quoting.

        “What kind of tattoo are you planning on getting?” I was flipping through a book of designs when Davis asked his question. 

        I really had no clue. I had been half-passed shitfaced when I had proposed this little adventure. Not to mention heavily influenced by the tatted up biker crowd. Now that I was coming down from my buzz, I was really regretting drinking so much awesome-sauce. “Something that means something,” I replied vaguely. 

        Suddenly a voice that I had secretly adored since I was a kid came from the television set that was hanging from the wall in the waiting area. _“Ohana means family. Family means that nobody gets left behind or forgotten.”_

        Stitch from _Lilo and Stitch_ was my all-time favorite Disney character. “Do you think you could draw him,” I asked the tattoo artist and jerked my head in the direction of the TV.

        “With my eyes closed,” Fang the tattoo artist with the pink hair and no more available skin laughed. “He's a favorite with the millennial and iGen crowd.” Fang couldn't be but in his early forties but he spoke like he was a million years old. “Give me half an hour sugar plum.”

        Davis took a seat in one of the red plastic chairs in the waiting area and, very much to my surprise, pulled me to sit in his lap. Damn. I really wished I had some more awesome-sauce. Being that close to Davis, feeling his muscular thighs below me and smelling his unique sawdust and musk scent – all of that made my brain pack up and go on vacation. “Why Stitch?” He lightly ran his fingertips up and down my arm.

        “Because he's weird. He doesn't fit in because he's from out of this world. He doesn't look like people expect him to. I can relate to that,” I told him honestly.

        He leaned forward a little and nuzzled my neck with his nose. That was it. My brain wasn't coming back from its vacation anytime soon. It had bought a summer home on Airhead Island, was making friends with the neighbors, and was seriously considering joining the neighborhood watch. “Are you going to get that ohana quote too?” He laid a kiss just below my ear and I shivered although I was far from feeling cold. In truth, I was feeling warm and tingly all over. I also had a slight headache that no doubt would develop into a raging hangover come the morning light. 

        “I would actually have to believe in family to get that quote permanently inked into my skin.” I sounded bitter, I know that I did. Luckily, Davis was kind enough to let the topic drop.


End file.
